


If We Met at the Wishing Tree

by Al_D_Baran



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I'm Sorry, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Beta Read, Past Character Death, Sheith Week 2016, Size Difference, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8406409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_D_Baran/pseuds/Al_D_Baran
Summary: They say planet Moirae’s trees will make your wish come true. Keith thinks he’s got nothing to lose.For the Sheith Week, for the prompt “First Kiss/Last Kiss” of the list for the last day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Mature due to nothing being too explicit. Themes are very adults.
> 
> Summary: They say planet Moirae’s trees will make your wish come true. Keith thinks he’s got nothing to lose. For the Sheith Week, for the prompt “First Kiss/Last Kiss” of the list for the last day. 
> 
> Pairing: Sheith with a tasty side of one-sided, pinning Klance at the end because someone (@pythie on the tungle) wanted it.
> 
> Warning: Past character death, not too descriptive sex (lime as us ancients would say), lotsa feelengs, unreality i guess??, please do tell me if I possibly could have missed any triggering content. (also light size gap i’m weaaaak)
> 
> Word count: 6109 words
> 
> Notes: Well it’s still the 28 here. Hope y’all enjoy this fluffy… thing. It’s my first finished Voltron fic so sorry if there’s mischaracterization! I am also French so the mistakes that have filtered through my editing can be blamed on that and the all-nighter I’ve pulled on this filth.

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“Are you, are you

Coming to the tree?

Where a dead man called out

For his love to flee.”

 _\--The Hanging Tree_ , The Hunger Games

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On planet Moirae, they say there exists a tree that can make wishes come true.

That barren women became fertile there, that wars came to an end to those who touched their barks and wished for it.

That no wish is impossible.

That any wish will become real, that the tree could even bring back the dead, turn back time.

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Being together is so easy. Keith doesn’t have to think about how to act and what to say when he’s with Shiro. One of the best thing about them is how comfortable silences always feel and he’s thankful for that. He isn’t chatty, doesn’t know how to hold a conversation but Shiro doesn’t seem to mind – he sparks them with ease, his charm and magnetism making speaking so simple, enjoyable even. Their time together is usually spent in short words and doing _more_ , none of them are men of grand discourses and tirades, both love action and being on the move.

There’s the times where he just strums his guitar, the officer looking at them with a little smile, eyes closing, as if to feel the notes. Keith sings for him even though he believes his singing is off-pitch and awful but Shiro assures him each time – “Keith, no one can sing like you. You’re perfect – you’re doing perfect.”

And so, Keith believes him. If Shiro likes a song, he’ll play it for him. He’ll learn the chords off the Internet, spends night practicing on making an acoustic version so he can make him happy. So he can see Shiro’s beautiful, wide smile… It makes Keith feel something soft inside his heart, tiny and precious, swelling each time he thinks of it – exploding each time he gets to see it.

“Keith,” Shiro tells him as they hang out. “Can you lay your guitar? I know you like your gift, but… I have something to tell you.”

Keith looks up with a frown, placing his brand new acoustic guitar down. The other had been about to snap in two and Shiro had splurged, buying him a brand new one out of nowhere. Keith had thought he would die of happiness, feeling almost embarrassed to accept something so expensive and now, two weeks later, he’s still cherishing it by playing almost each minutes of free time he had. Shiro was annoyed that it was affecting his studying but didn’t dare scold him when it made the boy so happy.

“You know I’ve applied for the Kerberos mission some time ago?” Shiro asks carefully, looking at Keith before trying to say more.

But Keith is quick-witted and cuts him from saying more, beaming at the news, “You, you’ve been accepted?”

Shiro smiles wider, “Yes! I have. I’ll be going in six months.”

Keith laughs at that, crawling a little closer to his friend to congratulate him with a hug. Joy starts mixing with sorrow and worry – Kerberos is so far away and Shiro will be gone for so long… The boy looks up to his mentor, eyes scanning every detail of Shiro’s face. How long his eyelashes are, the almond shape of his grey eyes, his strong jaw… Shiro is certainly the most handsome man he’s seen and Keith feels his heart longs for him.

“So… you’ll be gone for… a full year?” The selections have been the Garrison’s gossip subject for months. Who would be selected to pilot for it? The Holts are already selected, the only one left was the pilot…

“After six months of training to prepare for it, yes,” Shiro says, keeping an arm around him, his free hand coming dangerously close to his.

There’s a sudden silence, Keith looking at their hands. He would just need to move his pinkie to touch it, just move a little for them to brush… Shiro’s hands are so much bigger than his, manly and strong. Keith wants them to lace with his, for his fingers to comb through his, like they were made to fit each other’s.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he breaks it, his voice croakier than he wishes it could have been.

“Oh, _Keith_ ,” Shiro says, looking at him, smiling still, eyes with anything but the spark of his smile. “Keith… I’ll miss you too.”

He tries. He puts his hand closer, puts it over Shiro’s, letting out a gasp as the man pulls it away to lie it over his. It fully covers it and suddenly, Keith feels like its warmth is enveloping all his skin, going all the way up to his cheeks, where it pools up in a pinkish colour. He feels stupid for blushing, hiding his face with his free hand, Shiro pulling it away with a smile.

“I’ll fucking miss you,” he breathes out, his warm hands squeezing his so tightly.

Keith feels on the verge of tears, opening his mouth to talk, but knowing no words will come, that he’s going to feel halved without the man next to him.

“Shiro,” he just says, eyes closing. “Shiro.”

“But I’ll be back,” he assures, thumbs brushing over the opening of his biking gloves. “I’ll be back after a year, I wi—“

“Shiro, I love you.”

The words stumbled out of his mouth as if someone’s pushed them out, someone else than him. Keith opens his eyes to look at Shiro, finding surprise on his features that slowly turns into a soft smile.

“Keith, I…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t love me after this,” he hisses, squeezing Shiro’s hand tighter, pulling him—himself closer, since Shiro’s so much bigger, he simply won’t budge from where he’s sitting, especially not when a feather weight like him tries to. “Telling me you’ll miss me with that fucking awful face, man, you… you’d have to be pretty cruel for that.”

Shiro lets out a pained sound, running a hand through his hair as he laughs a little. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’ll be so busy, and then I’ll be gone for a year, I… I don’t want to put you through this, Keith. I do… I love you, you hear?”

But Keith is so young and Shiro’s a soldier. Shiro has his duties, even if one is to keep their newest hope in line, even if he got so much more than what he’s been pushed into at the start.

“I don’t care. I don’t, I… I want to be with you, Shiro.” He’s so passionate, so fiery, getting closer again, both hands fisting into the collar of his uniforms to get on his knees. Shiro just brushes a hand over his cheek, curling his fingers into the dark locks. “Just let me be with you. I’ll wait for you, Shiro. I don’t care… I just don’t care about anyone else. Never did and I never will.”

“ _Keith_.”

“Please? Shiro… I love you,” he begs, sitting on his ankles, their hands finding each others again as Shiro palms against his soothes him. Shiro’s always managed to do that somehow, make him see through his temperament, the right thing to do… he pulls him down when he needs to, as if it’s just natural for his words alone to do.

Keith kisses him before Shiro can say that he’s older than him by a shot, that he’s got responsibilities and a relationship like this won’t sit well with their superiors. They can hide it. They can just… not tell anyone. It can be a secret and the thought is so romantic, he thinks he’s going to have to pull away to shudder.

“Keith,” Shiro says again as they part. “You know… this isn’t going to be simple, I’m… an officer, I have duties and a year is a long time… Keith, you’re still young…”

“I don’t care. Shiro, I just… I want to be with you.”

There’s a long silence, Keith leaning against him, knowing there isn’t more he can say. He can’t force Shiro into this and he doesn’t want to, even when he knows Shiro wants this too. Eventually, Shiro kisses his forehead and nods, one hand threading in his hair as the other is wrapped around his.

“Alright. Alright, baby. I’ve got you and… I want to be with you too.”

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They say, on Moirae, whatever your wish is, the trees will make it a reality.

They say the trees will make you pay the price. The galaxy is far away, almost a legend to most but it’s star-system is on maps, it’s main star, Majora-3464-B, had a twin that died long ago, it stands an empty husk in the cosmos, the system drifting in penumbra as the smaller star shines as well as it can.

They say Moirae thrives despite this, that all wishing trees are as tall as five adult men standing on top of another.

Moirans sing of these trees, of their danger and the price there is to pay for wishes to come true.

No one ever seems to mention that price, whatever it is.

But when there’s nothing to lose anymore, prices hardly matter.

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The next six months they spend together go so fast, Keith could believe it’s only been a week since they’ve confessed to one another. Shiro is busy all day, sometimes even late into the night but he always manages to find some time for him. Between exams and his own duties of cleaning and such as a cadet, Keith soon realizes that things indeed get in their way.

But none of them care, none of them want to stop what they have now. It feels more precious each day, even more so when they had so little time for it, so little time before they’ll be separated.

Keith feels precious too, as embarrassing as it is to realize. Shiro is careful with him, so thoughtful, always, exactly as the boy has fallen for him. It feels perfect to be curled against his stronger shape, to lean against him to play a song on his guitar, to just listen to his slow breathing in a stolen moment of morning after he’s fallen asleep. He’s going to have to leave in the early morning to go back to his room but for now… they both feel warm and Keith feels happier than ever.

It's a happiness like he’s never felt. Shiro _really_ is perfect, helping him with his classes even as he prepares for his mission and Keith is so proud. Each time he hears gossips about Shiro leaving, he feels pride swell in him. Shiro worked so hard for this and he deserves it all.

When Shiro’s hand is in his own, it’s the world he has wrapped around his fingertips.

He wishes for the feeling to last forever.

The Universe feels warmer; the stars shine for him a little more. As hard as the start of his life has been, orphaned and shuffled through the legal system for children nobody wants, something finally good happens to him. Shiro calms him down. He knows just what to say, always, to make him see what to do, the right thing to do.

The first time they make love is just before Shiro’s final departure; they should both be sleeping. Keith has a test tomorrow and it’s Shiro’s big day. But still, he’s cuddle with him under the blankets, their hands laced together as he moves between his legs. Keith holds onto him like he’s the gravity holding him down to Earth. Their lips keep finding each other and it feels so sweet. Keith has always been cynical, even for his young age and somehow, he finds some hope in the moment, finds comfort in the kiss that Shiro leaves on his forehead.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs against his hair, the words letting him come with a muffled cry. “I’ve got you…”

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The planet – or planets, as two twin planets were in orbit where Moirae was said to be – are an effective wasteland. They are nothing but dusty sands and a quick overfly allows for the map to show the point of interest. On the easternmost of the twin planets lies what seems to be a forest.

Some ruins show up as he flies low enough – the Moirans apparently couldn’t wish away their own destruction.

A plateau allows him to land securely to see the planet with his own eyes, Moirae being unexpectedly sunny for a planet next to a dead sun.

The air is breathable. No trace of anything that would make him sick according to his scanners.

He takes his helmet off, looking to the sand as it suddenly stops, a patch of faded grey grass leading to another, bigger one. There’s the form of suspiciously spaced trees in the distance, their shroud-like foliage announcing they are anything but simple trees.

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When he learns the news, the Universe suddenly feels too cold, too big, too wide.

Shiro couldn’t have made an error. He was a genius – he would have never…

And yet there he is, utterly alone, destroyed and with all hopes he had for some luck in his life gone.

The whole world has lied to him and Keith feels _cheated_ , cheated of the happy ending everything seemed to tell him he deserved. He’s spent his whole life in shitty houses, being a name for a pay check, spent hours studying in the Garrison to become a pilot and yet they lie to him. He has to keep his good grades or he’s good as gone, they tell him right away.

He manages to hold it together for a while, to keep going even if he’s lonelier than ever. But one day it’s all too much and he just crashes and burns, the guy in the room next to him comes in after he’s exploded his guitar against the wall, bursting somehow as music doesn’t matter when there’s no one to listen.

“Mr Kogane, we know it hurts to lose your friend,” a professor tells him, Keith doesn’t even bother to look at him.

“It’s all an unfortunate error,” he carries on. “Really, something to expect of any of us. Mr Shirogane wasn’t without faults, after all. Everyone can make errors.”

Keith lets out a dry laugh, looking at him with a vacant expression.

“Shiro was the best pilot of his generation,” he says, as if tempting the man to say more.

“And yet there he was, fucking a kid behind our backs, thinking we wouldn’t notice.” Keith feels as if he’s been kicked in the stomach, looking to the man as he carries on, “We’ve let that slip since you both are our best elements but really? Hardly someone as perfect as he’s groomed you to believe him to be.”

Keith doesn’t remember what he did but he’s sure it was worth it, coming out of the office, escorted by two other teachers who throws him in his trashed room. His hand was bloody and for once in weeks he felt _satisfied_.

A week later, there’s a letter in his in-box.

He’s been expelled for disciplinary issues. Keith lets out a dry chuckle, standing up from class to just walk away. He doesn’t have much, never had. When he closes the door behind him, Keith knows it’s for the last time.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but as long as his feet lead him somewhere, he guesses he’ll have something else to think than how empty everything feels.

He wishes he could have never met Shiro. And at the same time, wishes he could be there to pull him close, to tell him – _I’ve got you, baby_ –, and everything would feel complete.

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Keith stands at the trees of Moirae, the Wishing Trees. A fable in all the Universe, with shrouds wrapped in their naked branches. They look ethereal, like something that could _actually_ realize a wish. Keith never believed in these children’s stories, always was a cynic and very practical.

But he’s got nothing to lose.

Shiro has come back once… maybe he can dare to hope.

The air around him is warm somehow. Keith doesn’t really know how to activate the trees and simply steps close to one, laying a hand on the bark. One of the shrouds of the branches brushes his face and he bats it away with a groan. He doesn’t have time for this fairy tale bullshit – Keith doesn’t even _know_ why he bothered coming there after this. He just fled the castle, he’s been gone for weeks and he’s lost the teammates that were looking for him long ago.

All that he knows, is that they _need_ the Black Paladin. They need Shiro. He should lead Voltron but Keith knows – he’s no leader.

And he _needs_ him, can’t stand losing him a second time. Keith feels his hopelessness of the last months well up inside of him, laying his forehead against the bark.

Even if he’s alone, it feels a little stupid.

It feels a little stupid to ask, but where he is now, after he’s begged every known deity in the galaxy, wishing to some tree in a deserted solar system doesn’t seem too terrible.

“I wish… Shiro was back,” Keith croaks, “I want Shiro back. I want my Shiro back.”

Shiro’s little smiles. His grins. That scar on the bridge of his nose, those long lashes, his strong jaw, his kisses, his stupid jokes… Keith felt his knees give up on him, sliding down the tree.

Someone picked him up from behind, two arms wrapped around his mid-section. Keith whips around, ready to face Pidge – the only one smart enough to find him – but words confirm him that he’s wrong before he can even see.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

There’s Shiro, in the armour that had been broken beyond repair, standing in front of him, alive, well, looking better than ever, helmet under his arm. Keith can’t find the way to make his tongue and mouth work together, standing there as a tiny breath escapes him, tears already flowing down his cheeks. There he is.

“Shiro.”

“Baby, I’m sorry… I know it was hard.” Shiro’s soft voice. His arms wrapping around him, holding him down, like gravity, like nothing had ever happened.

Shiro feels so real under his weight, Keith needing to take his gloves to feel the sleek material of the armour under his fingertips. Shiro laces them together like he’s always done and Keith just laughs suddenly, legs finally giving up.

“You’re real,” he says, looking to Shiro’s face, just as he remembers it – without bruises, without blood, without black veins –, soft and gentle. The scar on his nose, that feels just as rough as he remembers, the silkiness of his hair, the prickly feeling of the freshly buzzed undercut. “Fuck, you’re real,” Keith says again, starting to sob uncontrollably as he just lets go. All the feelings he’d held up for so long, all of it naturally leaves him, without shame, in Shiro’s arms.

“Shhh, baby. I’ve got you now. And I’m never leaving again.” Shiro kissed his hair like he always did to soothe him, his Galra hand rubbing circles on his lower back.

Were the colours around them always so bright?

“Don’t leave me,” Keith just manages, once he’s calmed down enough, curled in Shiro’s laps. “Shiro, I can’t take you leaving again.”

Shiro smiles softly again, the breeze playing with his hair. It smells like spring around them, the grass is soft and prickly and he’s wearing Shiro’s old sweater, the one he had all but stolen after the man had forgotten it in his room once.

“I’m never leaving you, Keith. I’ve told you, right? On the castle-ship.”

“You… you did,” Keith remembers suddenly, burying his nose in the old sweater. Had it been brought on the ship with them? He feels so confused and, rationally, it’s only natural. He’s been through so much in the last few months, losing his boyfriend and only finding him again now. Shiro couldn’t have been dead, he was just lost, he had to have been…

He had been mangled. Keith shook his head, the picture only flashing before his eyes, leaving him blinded for an instant until Shiro kissed him sweetly.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Shiro, the reality between them at this very moment, how warm Shiro’s body felt against his, the heaviness of his prosthetic… Every little proof that Shiro was there in his arms, filling his mind slowly. Keith felt like he was wrapped in cotton, Shiro’s hand slipping under his shirt.

Keith pulled himself on his knees, legs on each side of Shiro’s hips. It feels so natural to have Shiro’s hands against his skin, shivering at the coolness of metal against him. It hikes up slowly, Shiro moving them so Keith’s against the tree, midriff exposed. His arms wrap up around his neck again, holding Shiro loosely as kisses are peppered across his neck.

“It’s been so long,” Keith murmurs, feeling Shiro’s little chuckle against his jaw. “Don’t laugh… you – you old man, I… I missed you so much…”

There’s a smile against his ear now, followed by a very gentle kiss.

“Let’s make up for that time, then, mmh? Just let me do.”

Shiro kisses his exposed stomach, assuring him that he’s there, that he has him. Keith sucks in a breath when the cool air touches him clinging to Shiro as they slowly shed clothes. His shirt is still stuck under his shoulders when he dares to move forward, pushing a hand under Shiro’s shirt, feeling both the hardness of his muscles, the scars all over the skin… Even with all these, once his shirt is out of the way, Keith can feel his heart beat hard against his chest.

Shiro is alive, all these scars told that he has survived.

Keith kisses one, tracing the straight one, on the middle of his torso. Shiro pulls him off to kiss him, shaking his head before kissing his neck. “Focus on me now, baby. Don’t think about all this.” Shiro has been self-conscious ever since he returned, but Keith is convinced he could have never found him ugly.

Keith breathes something, too low for any of them to make it out as Shiro settled between his legs, fingers weaving with his. He’s rocked so slowly Keith thinks he might be dreaming but the pleasure is there, soft and growing, filling him as he clings to Shiro. More than pleasure, there’s the feeling of home in Shiro’s lips, lips opening to let the man’s tongue inside.

There’s a sudden inhuman hiss of pain, the distinct smell of burnt wood. His mouth tastes like hummus, the smell of spring or Shiro gone. Keith jumps up, feeling something tear from his skin from the sudden movement, the young man looks around the clearing to find Shiro, but the man is nowhere to be seen.

“Shiro!” he calls, turning around to find Lance, next to the stiff corpse of a… creature.

It looks like young shifts, laced together to form a rather feminine figure. Its head finishes in a crown of leaves and delicate branches, woven together, a little like a basket would have if it could have kept growing. It has no eyes, its stump-like arms ending in still pulsing roots, the intricate networks of vessels connecting right under his suit – they’ve even ripped holes in it to sneak inside, piercing his skin to feed on his blood.

“Fuck… what the fuck…”

He spits out the earth in his mouth, trying to stand up, almost falling before Lance catches him to lower him to the ground, “Hey, hey, buddy… easy there…” He looks weird, his eyes still locked on the humanoid, Lance letting out a weird laugh as he turns to him, a smile trying to hide the horror in his eyes, “Fuck… that thing, it looked like… it looked like Shiro just a moment ago…”

Keith can’t help but just stare too, one hand absent-mindedly pulling at the tendrils that fed on him.

The whole Earth has been pulled from under his feet and for once, he’s almost begging for Lance to start being as chatty as he usually is. Because everything feels surreal and he hasn’t seen the other Paladin in months. They sit in awkward silence, Keith feeling like there’s nothing to say, knowing Lance knows there’s nothing any of them could have said. He knew this couldn’t be real but to have been tricked by a weird alien just makes it all worst.

He’s disturbed by his own feeling of longing, longing for that simulation… Maybe he was weak because the creature was just connecting to him, it was feeding on him. Things had looked so perfect, so idyllic… Keith had wanted to believe it could still be this way. That Shiro and him could still share little moments, that he could still just steal his clothes because they were so comfortable, they smelled just like him.

Lance is the first to break the silence, uncharacteristically slow and deliberate as he speaks, “We’ve been trying to find you for months.”

“I know.”

Lance lets out a chuckle, “Guess I can’t expect an apology from you, mullet.” Keith turns to him, wanting to stand before being reminded of how weak he feels, Lance pushing him back down, “Easy, I said. I know you’re deaf to orders but fuck you look… you’re as pale as a corpse right now.”

That thing really tried to eat him. Keith isn’t sure how he feels about it all and maybe that’s the worst of it all.

“What do you expect me to say?” Keith asks, running a hand on his neck, waiting for Lance to start mocking him. After all, it’s what Lance’s favourite thing to do. Keith’s just necked a tree-alien thinking it was Shiro – really, the situation’s just comical and Lance would be wrong to pass such an occasion.

Lance looks like he can feel his tension and just sighs, reading into him with a sympathetic smile, “What? I’m not so cruel. Unclench.”

The Paladin takes off his helmet with a groan, his bayard on his knees as he stares into the distance this time. Some time passes again before he says, “I don’t expect you to say anything, Keith. I’m… I’m sorry it wasn’t true, alright? I… wish it could have been too. Without you guys around, it’s… it’s different.”

“We can’t be a team without a leader,” Keith says, giving one last look to the tree before just bringing his knees to his chest.

“Oh, _please_ , Keith Kogane,” Lance says, rustling him in urgency, “We’ve got a damn leader in you. That’s what Shiro wanted, didn’t he? So just… fucking lead us, okay?”

“I don’t want to lead Voltron!” Keith bursts, glaring at Lance as he just adds, “Look, I can’t do this alright? I’ll be a terrible leader.”

He wants Shiro to lead him still. He misses his gentle hand on his shoulder, his guidance, the way he’d say his name before a scolding.

“In that state? You’re gonna be, yeah.” Keith looks back to Lance as the Paladin gives a soft slap to the top of his head. “The Keith I’m used to is an asshole but he’s a smart guy who doesn’t back down from a challenge. Look, Shiro fucking trusted you to do this. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Lance seems genuinely upset at the idea, obviously trying to contain his anger with him.

“Look, Keith, I fucking get it. You and Shiro were lovey-dovey and nothing could come between you two, okay? I get it. I get you’re upset and we… honestly I still can’t fucking get that sight out of my mind but…”

“Stop,” Keith warns fisting a hand in Lance’s collar, shaking with anger.

He doesn’t want to remember the way Shiro’s body looked. The way his eyes looked so glassy, how immobile, mangled he had been… It’s too late; he looks down, letting out a raging sob. “I don’t want to remember him like this, I… I want him back.”

“Keith.” Lance has both hands on each side of his head now, forcing him to look at him as he smiles, “Keith, listen. I want him back too, alright? I wanna see dumb ol’ Shiro making stupid laser noises with us, I want to have food fights with him and… fuck, I just want to see him tuck your hair out of your stupid face like it’s his fucking duty alright? I don’t wanna remember that either. But… if your wishing tree isn’t real, he ain’t coming back, okay, buddy?”

“So please, give yourself some time to get over this and stop. You’re just… destroying yourself, Keith,” Lance says, gesturing at him, at his broken armour, his messy hair and the trickles of blood that the suit’s soaked up. “You’re fucking killing yourself over this. I just wanna help you, okay? Like – like everyone else. So, let me fucking help you, okay?”

Keith looks down, wanting to say it’s fine with him, but swallows hard. He doesn’t want to die, not by an illusion of Shiro in a reality it seemed to have created from his own memories. It didn’t make sense, he realized – that clearing had been different, they had been sitting in an orchard they had stumbled upon. That old shirt was still on Earth, in his shack… A collection of his best memories of Shiro.

“You’ve still got people, Keith,” Lance carries on, looking away, like he’s remembering his family back on Earth and the memory _hurts_. “I know Shiro was special to you, that you two were… you were soul mates or some cheesy shit, but we’re still there, okay? We’ve looked for you. And we… we want to make sure you’re safe, Keith. We’re supposed to be like… I don’t know, a family in this stupid space war, don’t you think?”

Keith looks to Lance with a new eye, unsure if his comrade has been replaced with another of these tree monsters, but that seems unlikely. Lance wouldn’t be this insufferable if he had been one of these. It pinches each time he remembers, but they were – _are_ all so close. All the worry he must have caused on Allura and Caron, the _other_ empty seat at the table where they should eat together, Pidge’s efforts to try to pinpoint him in the Universe, the food Hunk has prepared that has gone to waste… It still feels hopeless and cold without Shiro, but at least, now, there’s a place for him in the empty, terrifying Universe.

“Sorry.”

It’s the only word he can say, staring at the bleak horizon of Moirae, the place where wishes should have come true.

“I… Shiro, he would have…” Remembering Shiro. It hurts, like it’s been just an hour. He’s had the idea of bringing him back, that Shiro can’t possibly be _actually_ _dead_ from the start. But this time, it’s permanent. “The real Shiro would have punched me if I had spent so much time to try to… wish him back.”

“And ended up kissing a tree,” Lance tries, nudging him as he smiles hopefully.

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, here’s my mullet. That lacks the bite, but it’s okay, I can take a caress occasionally.” Lance laughs as he sees his glare. “Relax. It’ll come back. I can wait for that.”

Lance gently punches his shoulder, lifting his fist to ask for a fist bump. “C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.”

Keith smiles weakly, shaking his head at Lance’s antics. He’s glad he has him. And he’s glad to have them. His fist meets with his, Lance then sliding an arm under his to hoist him up. Keith sends one last stare to the trees behind him, imagining, even if he knows how cheesy it is, that Shiro would wish for him to go home.

After all, he finally has one.

He’s always had one.

.

.

.

 “Keith! Hey, Cap’n, you there? We’re kind of waiting for you,” Lance calls as Keith’s been taking a little too much time in the locker room, “You masturbatin’ in there?”

“Fuck off, Lance,” he warns, letting out a grunt. “I’m coming.”

“Keep the details to yourself.”

“I— Lance, you are the fucking worst.” He can just hear annoyance dripping from his captain’s voice, making Lance grins even more.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, uh?”

Keith opens the room with a sigh, standing there in his casual clothes, hair still mussed from his helmet. Lance ruffles it to get it back to its usual flatness, Keith batting his hand away with a sigh.

“Will you stop that? I said I was coming.”

“Just what are you even doing in there?” Lance asks, feeling like Keith just _might_ be polishing something in there. After all, he’s been spending a conspicuous amount of time there after each mission once everyone is gone to the deck.

Lance knows it’s uncharacteristic of him but he feels the need to care a bit for Keith. It’s been a few months more now and there’s progress. Keith is back at the castle-ship and he’s recovered from Moirae, at least, physically. Mentally, Lance guesses it’s a work in progress and it’s always going to be. He’s lost people in his family, so he can relate a little, even if it wasn’t like Shiro.

He still misses him, too, Lance realizes. Shiro had a way to get Keith out of his shell, whereas his own attempts are hit or miss. Keith _is_ their leader but there’s a long way to go still. They’re more united than ever, ironically – they all miss something and their common goal has become that much more tangible. The pain they feel make it even more personal this time.

But Lance would be lying if he said his attention to Keith were only friendly and disinterested – he tries to make them be, but he still can’t help himself sometimes. Lance remembers the things Shiro did, how they made Keith react. Tucking his hair out of his face, pushing him to get up and be sociable with them… everyone tries to do their best but he gotta admit he can’t help his damn feelings.

“We can’t play Cards Against Humanity without you killjoy. C’mon, buddy.”

“You don’t need to be so nice all the time, Lance,” Keith says, sounding strangely… grateful? “Look, I’ll be there in a sec, alright? Just go.” He even offers him a smile!

“Are you… okay? That was a smile. To me. And it wasn’t mocking.”

Keith gives him a punch to the shoulder, giving him a soft glare.

“Just go away. I’m coming.”

Lance wants to listen, to give Keith a moment, watching him go back in the changing room without a look behind. This isn’t recent news, Lance thinks, waiting a minute before leaning to look inside the room.

Keith is there, surely, lips pressed to the cracked visor of the Black Paladin’s helmet. It’s broken beyond repair; they all know this and yet… it’s been hanging where Shiro’s armour always was. Keith sits down, wrapped around it, forehead against one of the scratches on it. None of them had the will to throw it away and it seems like it’s some kind of comfort, a remembrance, something to remind them just why they’re fighting now.

They’re getting there, Lance thinks with a sigh. He knows Keith needs time to get over Shiro, that there’s certainly no one who will be like him to Keith. And he doesn’t want to be. He’d rather be himself, but he misses Keith’s smile from when Shiro used to just make corny jokes to him.

It’s a slow process, but Keith’s getting there – they’re getting there.

Lance thinks he can leave him a moment, staying close, as if he expects him to cry.

He still wishes he could have done more but he knows now wishes are dangerous. It’s better to just leave it to the hands of time. Time, in ticks or seconds, will let them get over it all. It’s a slower process but in the end, he knows Keith will be fine – in time. Lance guesses that’s what Shiro would have wished for and it’s the only one he’s willing to realize.

He’s got him now and he won’t let go either.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also read this fic on my tumblr @kerberoswasaninsidejob or @elucubrxtions  
> comments are better than kudos.  
> (i'm hitting the goddarn bed now hope y'all enjoyed your sinful fluff)


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